


In the Line of Duty

by lost_spook



Category: Doctor Who (1963), Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Harry's on guard at Buckingham Palace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-30
Updated: 2010-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:23:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buckingham Palace, 1976 - Harry Pearce takes a bullet in the line of duty for the first time.  Luckily another Harry is on hand to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Line of Duty

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Paranoidangel in an LJ meme.
> 
> (Harry Pearce's regiment comes courtesy of the tie-in book _Harry's Diary_. According to this he was in the Light Blue Dragoons and apparently this is part of the Household Cavalry. Nothing seems less likely for Harry, but it allowed for Buckingham Palace getting attacked by aliens and being saved by the Household Cavalry and UNIT, so who was I to argue?)

"Hold still there," said the voice, a hand on the fallen soldier's arm. "That's a nasty wound you've picked up. You move and you'll undo all my handiwork."

Harry Pearce opened his eyes and looked up at the concerned face of the Naval MO who was crouching beside him. He tried to speak.

"Save your breath, old chap," said the other, tightening the bandage round his arm. The white cuffs of his navy uniform were blood-spattered and that darkness on the uniform itself must also be blood. "You've nothing to worry about now. Attack's over, I've patched you up as best as I can, and they'll be giving you a promotion for that sort of thing."

Harry grimaced. The pain was beginning to make itself felt again. "I doubt it," he said, trying to joke, but it hurt. Promotion? Not likely, he was too darned clever for the army. He'd had comments at Sandhurst until the need to make smart-alec comments had been knocked out of him by weathered sergeants who could have given classes in robbing university recruits of their superiority. Didn't mean he didn't still _think_ them, though, and find being part of the Household Cavalry ridiculous. And the attack had come in the middle of a parade, which meant he'd had to face down an enemy in that ostentatious dress uniform. One mercy was that he seemed to have lost the plumed helmet in the fight.

"Have you got a name?" asked the naval officer.

Harry closed his eyes. "Pearce. Lieutenant Harry Pearce."

"You're in good company," the medic responded, giving a short smile. "I'm Lieutenant Harry Sullivan. I'm the MO."

Harry Pearce tried to sit again, but Sullivan kept a firm hand on his shoulder. "What were those creatures?"

"I don't know, but you got the last of them," said the naval Harry, who seemed to be looking beyond him, as if searching for something. Then he glanced back down at him and grinned again. "Brave thing that. I'm sure her majesty will be impressed. Can't be bad, eh?"

Pearce gritted his teeth. He wanted answers, not meaningless praise. "What were they?"

"Really. No idea, old thing. Even if I did, couldn't possibly say."

The soldier tried to grin back, but it didn't feel natural. "Thought I was supposed to be the hero of the hour."

"Your CO will inform you if he's permitted. Besides," Sullivan added, "I honestly don't have a clue."

Everything was growing fainter again. "You're with the UNIT lot?"

"That's right. There's an ambulance on its way, so we'll soon have you put to rights, don't you worry."

Harry shut his eyes again. "Wondered what you people did."

"Pearce," said Sullivan, a sharpness in his tone that had not been there before. "You don't have to talk; it's probably not a good idea, but if you could only-."

Harry looked at him, wondering why the idiot wouldn't go and leave him alone. It wasn't being shot, but he had no intention of staying in this military world. He'd always had his eye on other things. He wasn't entirely sure what, although he was waiting and he'd take his chance when it came. He didn't need some MO holding his hand and giving him platitudes when he wanted to let the pain and impossibility of the whole encounter fade away. It was a moment before it occurred to him to wonder why Sullivan had stopped himself from speaking so suddenly.

The MO had risen to his feet now, saluting sharply. "Your Majesty!"

"This is the young man?"

The voice could not have been more familiar, even though Harry Pearce had not spoken to her directly before, but now was hardly the time. It wasn't as if he'd exactly recognised what he was doing. There was no need for official thanks.

"Lieutenant Pearce, ma'am." It was his commanding officer, Colonel Sam Collins, whom he'd have expected to know better. Still, he could hardly argue with the Queen of England.

"I wanted to thank you personally," she said, a little out of his line of vision. "You showed great courage and integrity, Lieutenant Pearce, and my husband and I are most grateful. I am certain you will go far and I hope you will very soon return to the regiment."

There was further movement and then Harry Sullivan knelt back down.

"Has she gone?"

Sullivan grinned again, then. "Yes, she has. But you can't go round taking a bullet for the Queen and not expect to get thanked for it. I'd say you're doing pretty well to get a royal commendation at this stage of your career."

"Painful, though," said Harry. "It's only what she pays us for, mind."

Pearce looked up once more, towards the gates. "Serving queen and country, eh?"

"You, too, I suppose."

Harry Sullivan smiled. "Oh, sometimes. Mostly I just give the other chaps a hand in saving the world."

Harry Pearce blinked at that and wondered what he'd meant. He had said the world and not the country. _Strange._

"Aha," said the MO, getting to his feet again. "Here's the ambulance. You'll be right as rain in no time at all, you'll see. I'll go and give them a hand."

Harry watched him race over to the ambulance and suddenly it all fell into place. He'd been lying here, light-headed from the loss of blood and mentally sneering at the other's cheerful efforts at keeping him calm, and now the truth was obvious. It explained why the Queen had come over earlier rather than later (although, give her her due, she might have done that anyway). They weren't holding out much hope for him. They thought he wasn't going to make it through this.

 _Jane won't be impressed_ , Harry Pearce thought distantly. _She's never liked me being in the army._

"Hold on, Pearce," said Sullivan, one more time, as the ambulance drivers manoeuvred him onto the stretcher, causing him to bite his lips, whitening still further at the pain. "Nearly there. You'll be fine. Trust me."

Harry Pearce managed to grab at his sleeve as they carried him on past. "Thanks," he got out. If he was going to be stupid enough to stop a bullet like that, he'd better be grateful that someone had been on hand to hold him together in more ways than one until the cavalry arrived. No, not the cavalry, he thought blurrily as the door shut behind him. The cavalry was already here. Whatever it was he meant, he was grateful. He knew he had things to do.

 _Better learn to dodge the bullets in future_ , he thought as the sirens sounded.


End file.
